Out of Control (Untamed #2) by Jinsey Reese, Victoria Green Page A

to Sabine and she’d responded with a resounding Oui! demanding that I sign Marie on the spot. Looking through the paintings today had me itching to buy some myself, but I couldn’t afford to spend the money right now. I made sure to put her contact information in my phone for the future.
    I called Sabine from the gallery to check in and let her know how the deal had gone.
    “You did well, chérie !” she said, and I could hear her beaming at me over the phone. “You are a natural at this, just like I said. I am so proud of you, Reagan. The commission on this show will set you up for your own gallery.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You are going to get your own commission and the gallery’s commission combined. I want you to reap the benefits of your hard work. And I want you to vivez votre rêve .” Live your dream. “Say oui to it!”
    A lump rose in my throat and I couldn’t speak for a moment. When I did, my voice was choked. “ Merci beaucoup, Sabine. Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”
    “Say oui à l’argent. ” Yes to the money .
    “ Oui! ” I laughed, even as a couple of tears slipped out. Her belief in me filled me with so much light at that moment that I was certain I could do anything. I would have my own gallery. I would live this life I wanted. I would do it.
    We chatted for a few more minutes, catching up, then I said goodbye and hung up the phone. She was the one person in New York that I truly missed. I’d always thought of Archer as my only friend, but I was starting to see maybe that wasn’t the whole truth.
    A warm, meaty hand grabbed my ass, and I whipped around to find Lucien. Again. Shit. I hadn’t even heard him come into the office.
    He leaned toward me and I tried to step back but the chair kept me pinned in place. It hit the backs of my knees, knocking me off balance, causing me to fall into the seat. Lucien put his hands on the arm rests and loomed over me.
    “ Bonjour, ma belle, ” he said, his stale coffee breath making my stomach churn . “Let us celebrate your first Parisian show tonight. Que vous et moi. ” Just you and me. “I know the perfect way.” His gaze slid down my face and neck, and feasted on my chest.
    It made my skin crawl.
    “I can’t,” I said, trying to get up out of the chair, but he wouldn’t move out of the way.
    He leaned even closer. “You must say oui à Lucien, too, chérie .”
    Oh, my god. Had he been eavesdropping on my conversation with Sabine? There was another phone out in the gallery. He must have picked it up and listened in. That was so freaking creepy it chilled me to the bone.
    “No,” I said, shivers running over my skin. He needed to take a step back and he needed to do it now. “No, I don’t. Now get out of my fucking way, Lucien.”
    His eyes narrowed and he lifted one hand off the armrest as if he were going to grab me, but then the tones rang out in the gallery and a voice called out, “ Bonjour! ”
    Lucien shot me a lecherous smile, smoothed back his hair, and walked out of the office to greet the new customer.

    When I got to Dare’s it was almost five. My hair was still wet, my skin rubbed raw from scrubbing the feel of Lucien off of me.
    And I was still shaking.
    In the bathroom I’d stared at my bottle of pills. One swallow and I wouldn’t feel anything at all, but Dare would know. He’d see. And he’d be disgusted.
    Three years ago, doctors had suggested a treatment center. You didn’t need a medical degree to know that the pills were just bandaids for deeper wounds that would not heal. But my mother wouldn’t hear of it. What would people think if gossip spread about a McKinley needing help? Her solution was more pills. How fucked up was that?
    So instead, I had pulled the phoenix out of my purse and spread it out on the counter in front of me. THIS was true strength—the ability to recreate oneself. I was trying—good god, I was TRYING. But those fucking pills would make everything so